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The basement remains a desolate shell.

All the stuff that was down there was put in storage somewhere. I haven’t asked for details because I don’t really care. The only thing I miss is my exercise bike.

I’m an avid exercise cyclist. I ride it every day without fail–sometimes twice a day.

My sailor is an avid regular cyclist.

Before he realized how uncoordinated and timid I am, he tried to share this healthy habit with me. He bought me a pretty teal mountain bike with a spiffy matching helmet. Our first and only ride was cut short because I spooked when a car overtook me. I walked my bike home in shame while he rode off into the sunshine alone.

A few years later we lived on a remote Army base in England. My sailor went away for a course and our Saturn broke down. (Yes, we were that family in Victoria who bought a Saturn.)

Trapped on the base with no other transportation, I dug out the bike and helmet and rode to the village for supplies. I felt strong, brave and free until my front wheel got tangled in some thick British vines and my bike and I parted ways. I went over the handlebars into a prickly bush. The bike skidded onto the road, narrowly missing an oncoming vehicle.

I haven’t been on a bike with wheels since, but I love the stationary variety. It’s so safe and stable and I’m unlikely to be hit by a car on it, which I feel is a bonus.

I can’t wait to get my exercise bike back. I feel sluggish and lazy without it.

Since it’s too miserable to do anything outside, I had to dream up something I could do inside without any equipment: slipper jogging!

I run laps around the house for half an hour before dinner–162 (yes I counted.)

I can’t wear my running shoes indoors because they’re gross and dirty from being worn, you know, outside, so I wear my fuzzy slippers. Although they give me traction (important on slippery hard wood floors), I doubt they’re engineered for proper running support. My calves and knees are aching, but I will not be deterred. Like the high school gym teacher of whom you were secretly frightened used to say: No pain. No gain!

Apparently I’m making huge gains.

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